Hundred Acre Woods

by Jendra

Hi everyone! This is number 4 in "The Adventures of Tigger and Pooh", and for right now it's probably the last. If I get inspired to do another one, I will, but right now I don't have anything coming to me ^_^. I do have another series of short & sweet's going around in my head, and they'll probably start coming in a couple of weeks. (or next Monday... I'm cool like that... and I wrote these years ago grin)

Thanks to everyone who wrote in about the T & P stories, especially the ones who kept writing. I still like to get comments and constructive criticism.

No one here belongs to me, no one else has read it, and it can be archived.

"You're not really going to call me Tigger, are you?" Blair practically whined as he followed Jim into the elevator.

"What's the big deal?" Jim asked as the elevator reached Major Crimes' floor. "I mean, surely it's better than Hairboy."

"That's different," Blair told him as they exited.

"Why?" Jim asked, looking at his partner. "Is it because it's juvenile and you don't want to seem any younger than you are? No, that doesn't work, you don't seem to mind when Simon calls you kid. Is it because you don't want to give Simon any ideas? What?"

"It's just different, okay Pooh Bear?" Blair didn't realize what he had said until he caught the glare Jim threw at him and the half hidden snickers of the rest of Major Crimes. His words had come during a lull when no phones were ringing, no printers were printing and no one was talking. He spoke just loud enough in his annoyance that everyone in the bullpen could hear him. He blushed redly in embarrassment.

"Oh man," he muttered. "Tell me I didn't say that, please, please tell me I didn't say that." The murderous glance Jim was throwing at him dashed the hope that he had just imagined the whole thing.

"You are dead, Sandburg," Jim muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

Blair hung his head. "I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to say it, really I didn't. It just slipped out. If you hadn't been wearing a red shirt..." his voice trailed off.

"Don't even try to push this one over on me, Sandburg," Jim answered. "You did it all by yourself."

Simon stepped out of his office and looked around, confused. He hadn't heard Blair's outburst, but saw everyone looking at the partners. "Isn't there some work to be done?" he barked. "Ellison, Sandburg, my office."

The two men followed the captain into his office and waited while he shut the door. "What was going on out there?" he asked.

Blair sidled away from Jim. "If I went missing, you'd search for me right?" he asked in a pleading voice. "There'd be an investigation?"

Simon's voice and face went serious. "Has someone threatened you?"

"Yeah, him!" Blair pointed to Jim who was still looking murderous. "I didn't mean to say it! Honestly I didn't. But we've been teasing each other with the nicknames all weekend and it just slipped out! I didn't mean for the others to hear it, really I didn't!"

"Jim," Simon said gently, looking at his best detective. "You know how Sandburg is sometimes, and you can't kill him just because he blurted out a nickname. After all, he is a civilian."

"He called me Pooh Bear in front of the entire bullpen!" Jim informed Simon loudly.

Simon blinked, and then blinked again. He ducked his head to hide the laughter dancing in his eyes. "Oh," he started, then stopped to clear his throat. "In that case you're on your own Sandburg, I don't think anyone can save you from this one." He looked up at Jim, "Will you need help hiding the body?" he asked with quirking lips.

"I'll let you know," Jim announced seriously, turning to leave. He reached out and grabbed his partner on the way by.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Simon," Blair said as he was dragged along.

"We'll have a nice memorial service," Simon promised.

"Oh, that's comforting," Blair muttered.

As the partners exited Simon's office, Brown and Rafe moved in. They knew better than to try kidding Ellison while he still had that look in his eye, but figured Sandburg was fair game. Maybe they could get in a few subtle digs at Jim at the same time.

"So," Brown spoke up. "If he's Pooh, does that mean you're Piglet?"

"Nah," Rafe answered. "He's 'got' to be Owl. Always talking, telling stories that don't have anything to do with the subject, using big words, he's definitely Owl."

"That's cool," Blair answered, hoping that the banter would put Jim in a better mood. "Owl's wise, I can live with that."

"On second thought, H, you're right," Rafe immediately changed his mind. "Owl's not a good choice."

Blair glared while Jim stifled a chuckle. Jim suddenly heard a sound, he looked over to see Blair's lips moving and listened close. He was speaking so low, that even right next to him a normal person wouldn't have been able to hear him. "I'm sorry for complaining so much about Tigger. It's not that I minded you using it, it's just, well, I knew that if you started calling me Tigger, I'd eventually mess up and call you Pooh Bear, and I knew you'd hate that. I was right too. And I kind of wanted them to be just between us, you know, a best friend kind of thing."

Jim's glare softened and he pressed his hand against Blair's shoulder. "We don't need special nicknames, Chief," he said softly into his friend's ear. "It's just how we are," he caught a glimpse of Blair's bright smile before turning his attention back to the conversation going on around them.

"Right, he's Piglet. Small, always hanging around with Pooh Bear, usually needing rescuing," Brown grinned at Blair who was staring at him with a disgusted expression. Jim had a matching expression on his face, he knew Brown hadn't used Pooh Bear on accident.

"You're both wrong," Simon said from the open door of his office. "He's Tigger. Always bouncing around and getting into trouble."

"I agree," Jim spoke up. "With a top made of springs and a bottom made of rubber."

"I thought it was the other way around," Rafe said, trying to think of the lyrics to the song.

"It is, but this way fits better," Jim told him. "After all, his top is made of springs." He reached out and pulled one of Blair's curls, letting it go and watching it spring back into position. "See?"

"Hey, man, lay off the hair!" Blair ducked away and wished he'd put his hair in a ponytail before coming in. He looked around at the cops. "How do you all know so much about Winnie-the-Pooh anyway?" he asked slyly.

Simon just raised an eyebrow. "I do have a son, you know. Daryl always liked Pooh when he was little."

"An old girlfriend's daughter liked it," Brown said hurriedly. "I'd watch it with her."

"Hey, I've got nieces and nephews," Rafe said quickly.

"Uh huh, right," Blair said with a conspiratorial grin.

"Well, if this meeting of the Children's Literature Society is done," Simon said, "I believe it's time for all of you to get back to work. Pooh Bear, Tigger, don't you have something to do?"

Jim and Blair looked at one another, in total agreement of what to say next. "Yes, Christopher Robin!"